


The Shadowy Mayfair

by OpalEyes2112



Category: Kolchak: The Night Stalker, Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon & Comics)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Comas - Freeform, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Worldbuilding, soul snatching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29689362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpalEyes2112/pseuds/OpalEyes2112
Summary: It's Spring in 1968. Carl Kolchak gets sent to Mayven County's 200th Mayfair to write an article for the Independent News Service. However, during his work/vacation week, he discovers that there's several mysterious comas in the same town as his Bed & Breakfast.Soon, Kolchak finds himself deep in the Unknown and investigating the cause of the comas.
Relationships: Carl Kolchak & Tony Vincenzo, Original Character/Original Character
Kudos: 2





	The Shadowy Mayfair

**Author's Note:**

> This is pre-canon set in the 1960s. In this story Carl Kolchak is in his late twenties and Ms. Daniels (the woman from whose garden Greg got his rock) is also in her late twenties. Wirt's father is a minor character.   
>  This is super self-indulgent of me. It's a fun, what-if conglomeration of HCs I have. A story of how the Kolchak got his hat and how the Lantern came to be so important.

_A child ran through the forest like the Hounds of Hell were on his heels. Perhaps they were, the creature tearing after him certainly seemed like one. Jacques vaulted over a fallen tree before coming to the road that separated the Tavern from the woods. He was almost there..._

_He took a moment to catch his breath, but apparently that moment was all the Beast needed. Jacques didn’t even have time to scream. A pair of clawed hands grabbed him from behind, ripping him away from the sight of the Tavern’s inhabitants and dragged him deeper into the woods._

The nurse checked the boy’s vitals for the third time that day. An hour ago, they had flared up giving everyone hope that he’d wake up soon. However, those hopes were quickly dashed as they sunk back to their previous levels.

A hiss of confusion and frustration escaped the woman. She’d worked at Mayven County Hospital for eight years and a situation like this had never occurred before. Five comas since the start of April, and all of them had been found in the same area. The first two victims were local high school students, and everyone thought it was simply a prank gone wrong. But then, Ms. Ashmoore and her dog had been found. Both in comas.

It’d been a week since young Jacques Milieu had been found on the riverside trail and the CDC had finally arrived to quarantine the area. The patients would be out of her hands soon. Though a part of her doubted that the mystery would be.

In another week the Mayven County Mayfair would begin and plenty of tourists would descend on the area like bees to honey. All it would take for the FBI to get involved would be some daredevil paranormal investigators, spiritualists, or high schoolers looking for a thrill, but instead find themselves in an exceedingly long dream.

The Chicago offices of the Independent News Service were, for once, vibrant for a Monday morning. Sunlight streaming in through the windows, and Ms. Emily had a veritable garden at her desk from all the early Mother’s Day bouquets. Kolchak had added to the verdant collection two days ago with a vase full of daisies.

However, it was the all-enduring American curse that any beautiful Monday morning must be interrupted. As usual, it the interruption came in the form of his boss, Tony, and Ron Updyke, the new intern. The click-clack of their dress shoes announces their arrival in advance enough for Kolchak to hide a ripped-out page of the phone book.

“-bosses in New York say they’re too busy for this one. Even though it’s in their own backyard!”

“I could go,” the polished intern offered, but Carl knew that wasn’t going to happen. Already, Tony was strolling towards his desk with an annoyed and determined air.

“Hey! Tony! What can I do for you?”

“Carl, I want you to go to Glinton, Massachusetts.” The chief editor scowled at the disarray on the reporter’s desk. Kolchak couldn’t help following his gaze to the four stacks of various documents strewn about.

_It may be chaos, but it’s my ordered chaos!_

“Oh? What for?”

“Report on the Mayven County May Fair,” Tony huffed and rolled his eyes at the reporter’s expression. “It’s a very important affair for the state. It’s historical. This year’s is the county’s 200th. This festival dates back to before the Revolution!”

Carl couldn’t help but chuckle. It…. was what? An hour flight from New York City to Boston?

“What happened to New York? They employ…. What? 20 reporters? And none whatsoever are available for this _all-important_ historical day?”

The boss sighed and his shoulders sagged. Ron Updyke looked he felt like a fifth wheel on a Model T vehicle. The ginger haired intern glanced from their boss to Carl then back again before skedaddling back to his desk.

“They’re too busy,” Tony explained with a sympathetic shrug. “Some parts of the city there have been getting together Cinco de Mayo festivals and gaining in popularity. Apparently, they’ve got a squad working on pieces on how different cultures view the first week of May. Should be fascinating. And then there was a triple homicide and a socialite scandal.”

“They should hire more people.”

Tony tilted his head in agreement.

“Also, you should be aware it’s a week. A _week_ long affair in Massachusetts.”

Kolchak turned his gaze back to the stacks on his desk then started tapping his fingers on the walnut wood.

_It would be nice to get out of this crazy place and not deal with the traffic._

“All expenses paid?” Carl asked before meeting his boss’ gaze with his own.

Tony’s eyes narrowed.

“Room and board will be compensated. We already called ahead and booked you a room at… “ He took a folded paper from his breast pocket then unfurled it. From the sunlight hitting the white document Kolchak could make out a logo and plenty of words. “Bright Lanten Bed and Breakfast.”

Carl chuckled at the name. Where did these people come up with such names for their businesses? _Bright Lanten?! They should’ve just said Bright Lantern!_

His enthusiasm quickly dimmed at the suspicion that he might soon be sleeping in a room ruled with iron fist by floral patterning and too many doilies.

Gritting his teeth at the deeply unpleasant mental image, Carl sighed. Hopefully the hosts had better tastes than some. Besides, he’d been wanting to get away from this gigantic metropolis for some time. Get out of his rinky-dink apartment.

“When’s the flight there? Or do I need to drive?” Carl asked by way of confirmation.

“Flight to Boston is tomorrow at 3 PM. Fair begins the day after, so you should have ample time to get your bearings. Fair ends May 7th and we’d like you back here by the 9th.”

It sounded like a sweet deal to Kolchak. While he didn’t have much interests in festivals, this one might prove more interesting. After all, what would be the point of making it an issue that it was the county’s 200th annual May Fair if it wasn’t going to be spectacular?

_Who knows? Fair’s draw all sorts of attention. There’s bound to be something interesting going on._


End file.
